Chapter 7
In the bustling district of Seomyeon, there was a famous spot called Ttogane Dakgalbi.
It wasn’t just a well-known restaurant—it was also affordable enough for middle and high school students. Whenever Yeo-reum and Boram came to Seomyeon, they always made sure to eat there.
It hadn’t even been a month since they last saw each other, but to them, the separation felt longer than ever. So when they finally met again, they clung to each other like it had been ten years.
One moment, they were whispering earnest promises like “Let’s stick together in college, no matter what,” and the next, they were laughing as if they had just seen each other yesterday.
“Not too long ago, I skipped night study and went out with the girls for tteokbokki….”
Listening to Boram, Yeo-reum suddenly thought, Wait. I’ve never skipped night study, have I?
The idea had never crossed her mind. To even try such a thing would be unthinkable—her older sister, practically her guardian, would have killed her.
Not that it mattered much. Yeo-reum had never broken the rules in a big way. The worst thing she had ever done was in middle school, when she wore socks with a cartoon character on them instead of plain white ones. A teacher had confiscated them immediately.
So hearing Boram’s story, Yeo-reum felt both envious and amused.
Maybe I should try it once, too.
After all, wasn’t this the sort of reckless thing you could only do as a student? She decided she’d try skipping night study at least once—on a day she really didn’t feel like it.
The two friends reassured each other they were doing well. Still, when they realized they were slowly gaining new experiences apart, they felt a strange twinge of jealousy.
“Let’s really go to the same college, okay?”
“Yeah. Oh, by the way—did you hear? They say the Minimini Mall sticker booth might shut down soon.”
“What? No way. Why?”
“Some big stores opened up near the intersection. Everyone’s going there now.”
“That can’t happen. That place is a memory capsule. Let’s go take pictures there later.”
“No way. I look so haggard today.”
“I’m haggard too. Forget our faces—we’ll take pictures of the place. For the memories.”
“You’d go there just for that?”
“If it disappears, it’ll be so sad. I want photos to remember it by.”
“You really get sentimental about stuff like this.”
“Well, I am a literature girl, after all. Ah, if Hyun-ho heard me say that, he’d laugh at me so bad.”
Boram put her spoon down, crossed her arms, and stared hard at Yeo-reum, who kept laughing without noticing her gaze. Yeo-reum just kept talking about Hyun-ho.
Finally, Boram asked seriously,
“Do you realize something? No matter what we talk about, you always circle back to this Hyun-ho guy.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’ve been talking about him the whole time.”
“R–really?” Yeo-reum stammered, flustered. She fumbled for an excuse. “I mean, he just sits next to me, so I end up talking about him more, that’s all….”
Boram’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. Ah, so that’s how it is, huh?
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t like him.”
“Then why do you keep bringing him up?”
“I told you—it’s just because he sits next to me!”
“You have other friends too, right? You didn’t talk about them nearly this much.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not what you think!”
Yeo-reum had never shown interest in anyone before. She always rejected confessions without hesitation. One boy had even confessed saying, “I know you’ll say no, but I had to tell you anyway.”
So for Boram, it was startling. This was the first time Yeo-reum had spoken so much about a boy.
“Is he tall?” Boram asked, curious.
“Tall? Yeah. Around 183, I think.”
“That’s your type. You like tall guys.”
“He’s not the only tall one.”
“What about his skin? Fair?”
“Yeah. Even though he plays soccer at lunch every day, he’s still paler than me.”
“That’s your type too. You like fair-skinned guys.”
“Ugh, seriously! Why would I like him?”
“Fine, fine. Don’t get so worked up. If someone saw you, they’d think you really liked him.”
“You’re the one pushing it that way!”
“Okay, okay. You don’t like him. Happy?”
But inwardly, Boram thought: Even without seeing him, I can tell he’s close to her ideal type. And if he’s decent in personality too…
She was sure Yeo-reum didn’t even realize her own feelings yet.
Meanwhile, Yeo-reum was exasperated by Boram’s teasing. It made her feel unnecessarily awkward about Hyun-ho.
She pouted, grumbling:
“I wasn’t even gonna tell you this, but you’re so weird about it that now I don’t want to.”
“What? Just say it.”
“Well… it’s kind of crazy. But I ran into him by coincidence a bunch of times. The first day I came to Yangsan, I got lost on my way home. Guess who showed me the way? Him. Then when I went to school for the first time, he was in my class—sitting right next to me! And then when I went to get my uniform, I ran into him again. Isn’t that crazy?”
Yeo-reum’s eyes sparkled like starlight as she chattered. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her smile wouldn’t leave her face.
Boram sighed inwardly. I should probably tell her the truth about what’s happening to her right now.
“Ah. Then it’s obvious.”
“What is?”
“You believe in fate, right? How coincidences mean destiny, or connection?”
“This is just coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Be careful, Yeo-reum. That’s how you start falling for someone. Honestly, I think you already are.”
“Stop it! This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!”
“Once you start noticing someone, you can’t stop. And if coincidences keep piling up… it’s already over for you.”
“Me? Like him? Never!”
Yeo-reum insisted it was nothing more than curiosity—that they’d only just become friends, so naturally she had things to say. Nothing more, nothing less.
Or so she claimed, with a stubborn certainty.
The next evening, she went for a walk with her aunt. Her aunt held Hakuna, while Yeo-reum led Matata through the park near the apartment.
“Are you getting along okay with your sister?”
“Yeah. It’s fun.”
“That area’s good. Lots of students, feels safe.”
“True. Plus there’s a market nearby, so it’s nice to go shopping with her sometimes.”
“And school? You managing?”
“When is school ever easy? I’m just trying hard.”
“That’s all you need. Just do your best.”
Her aunt wasn’t the type to demand, “Be number one. Be the best.” She only asked Yeo-reum to try sincerely, even if she fell short. To give her best on tests, to do her homework, not to be late.
And she joked about everything else: as long as it wasn’t illegal or immoral, Yeo-reum should try whatever she wanted. Her mom would’ve said, “How could you skip night study with the college exam around the corner?!” But her aunt would’ve just laughed and asked, “Did you eat well?”
The only things she nagged about constantly were health and character.
After a while, her aunt asked casually:
“Still don’t want to go to Canada?”
“I mean, I’d like to see it. But I just got used to things here. Moving again would be hard. Besides, I can’t even speak English properly. It’s one thing to do worksheets—it’s another to survive actual classes. How could I possibly keep up?”
“You’d pick it up fast at your age.”
“But Mom and Dad are already struggling to adjust. If I show up too, they’ll say it’s fine, but it’ll just add to the pressure.”
Her aunt chuckled. “Look at you, worrying about your parents. You’ve grown. But still, if you ever want to go, just say the word.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I’m fine. I’m really happy here, so don’t worry.”
“Good. That’s enough.”
“You’ll be lonely after I leave tomorrow.”
“Then visit often.”
“I will. Next time, I’ll bring my sister too.”
Yeo-reum hugged her aunt’s arm more tightly.
On Monday morning, she left early from her aunt’s house. Even though it was only a thirty-minute subway ride and a thirty-minute bus ride, the commute during rush hour could take two hours. She arrived at school much earlier than expected.
No student council patrols had arrived yet, so she walked straight through the main gate.
Just as she passed the athletic field and neared the cafeteria, yawning widely, someone far off called out cheerfully:
“Good morning!”
Yeo-reum glanced around. Convinced it wasn’t meant for her, she kept walking.
